A Knife In Her Heart
by UndressTheseBeautifulLies
Summary: Maybe Allison likes to draw things on other canvases. Maybe that other canvas is her skin, and the pencil is a knife. Stealing Bender's knife is just the start. Faint reference to blood, no description, non graphic. Allison/Bender


**A/N: This is my first Breakfast Club fic, so be nice. I'm not that good at getting into their character, but I gave it a shot. :)**

When John Bender pointed out the burn mark on his forearm, getting close to Andy's face and menacingly told him, "See this is what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage," Allison couldn't help herself, she couldn't help but jump up and grin.

"That all you got?" Allison teased, pulling up one of her black sleeves. Claire does a double take at the other girl's arm. With military precision, the pale arm had countless red, ugly welts upon it, in varying degrees of freshness.

"Christ!" Claire squawks, and Allison simply laughs. "Put your sleeve down!"

"_Oh!" _Allison exclaims, grinning. "You wanna see the other arm?" Without warning, her arm is yanked from behind her. She squeals.

"Hey! Don't do that!" Claire says, jumping up. "You're gonna _hurt _her, idiot!"

"_I'm _the idiot? I'm not the one who's been carving myself up like a god-damn turkey! Look at her arms." Allison falls with a thud on the floor as Bender swings her arm round to show the fuming girl in front of him. She giggles from the floor, and Claire glances at her. "Don't think it's Thanksgiving yet, sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, you know me. I'm thankful all the time." Allison says sarcastically, tugging her arm back. Bender doesn't let go. Andy stands up.

"Let go of her, man."

"What're you gonna do about it?" Bender snaps round to face Allison as he hears the snapping of his own knife.

"If you don't let go of me, I'm gonna give you a demonstration on your own arms." Allison threatens, but there's a smile on her face, smug and pleased with herself. Bender smirks.

"You little thief!" But he sets her down anyway.

* * *

Rolling her eyes, Allison jumps off of the table she was put down on, and sits on her own in her chair, face down on the table, hood over her head. Bender silently sits in front of her and puts his face on the table, staring at the hood of her coat. When Allison sits up, she screams.

"What the hell do you think you're _doing!" _

"Just resting."

"Well rest somewhere else. Go on, get off!"

"But I thought you were gonna give me a demonstration?"

"You put me down."

And then all of a sudden, Allison was half on Bender's shoulder, half flailing in the air.

"_Bender!" _

The way she says his name makes him laugh - tentatively, as if it's a bad word, her voice high, _almost _laughing but still annoyed.

"Yes?"

"Could you put me down?"

"No."

However he does, when he hears the terrified squeak tear from her lips. She'd opened her eyes to see Claire glaring at her angrily.

_Why does that bitch get him to be nice to her, just for slicing her arms up? Well, I can do that, too. _"Gimme that knife, Allison."

Allison shakes her head. "Give. It. To. Me." Allison shakes her head yet again. Claire rolls her eyes, pretending to be disinterested. Then she lunges at Allison. "Give me that knife!"

* * *

"Good job, Claire," Andy mutters, glancing at her. He then turns his attention to the girl dressed in black, sitting precariously on the double bookshelf, absentmindedly flicking the knife she'd won in the battle. She refused to get down, just staring at the other students in front of her, a pout on her lips and wide Bambi eyes in place.

"Come on, Allison. It's okay! Just come down. I'll help you," Brian offers, holding out his hand. Allison barely gives him a second glance before turning around.

"Fine," Bender says, shrugging. "If she won't come down, we'll go up." He grabs one of the shelves and hauls himself up. Allison also jumps up, ready and steadying herself for jumping to the other bookshelf. Bender grabs her arm. "Oh no you don't." She opens her mouth to argue and he's hopeful that she'll tell him where to go, just so he knows she's okay, but she simply hugs her knees, bag to her chest, very slightly shaking her head.

"Why didn't you just give her the knife? It's a stupid fu-"

"_No," _she says angrily, though it's mostly a rush of air. She narrows her eyes. "It's not just a stupid knife."

"You're leaving my almost expletives out." He says, remaining unimpressed. "Why's it not just a stupid knife then? You know, if you'da given it to Cherry, I'd of got it back for you."

"Mm."

"But that's not the problem, is it?" The dark girl laughs a little shakily, and shakes her head. "So what is the problem?"

"She can't stand the fact I have something she doesn't. And I don't know why.."

"Cherry's alright. Just gotta know how to handle her."

"Yeah well, I don't know how to handle her."

"Yeah, well, I do." He jumps down and Allison feels strangely disappointed, hunching down on herself. "No, Crazy, you gotta watch." Shrugging, she turns around. "If you want a knife, why didn't you just ask?"

"What, do you have a knife collection?" Asks Claire sarcastically.

"Not collection. No, not yet. I mean, basketcase over there has reduced my supply with her kleptomaniac ways, and I'm about to give one to you, so I guess it's more of a hobby than a collection. Well. I'll loan you this one."

"Is _she _only loaning that one?"

"Well, sweets, that depends."

"On?"

"On whether ol' psycho over there is gonna steal it back."

* * *

"You know I'm gonna steal that knife back, right?" Bender shakes his head.

"Nah. You can't."

Her eyebrows knit together and she tilts her head in confusion.

"Why not?"

"You can't steal your own knife. Keep it."

The look on her face makes him know it's worth having to go out and buy a new knife. "Just don't.." he motions to her arms.

"No promises." He shakes his head, grabs her arm, and kisses one of the faded scars.

"Now I know you look up to me," he jokes, and she scoffs. "So you'll love what I love, right?"

"And what's that?"

"You."


End file.
